Disclaimer for story: I don't own The Hunger Games or these wonderful characters that I so greatly ship! Forever wishing I did though.

I smooth the creases out of my dress and smile at myself in the mirror as my dad enters my room. He smiles back at me, but not the same smile I give. His is more pained, scared. I know he must be scared for me, but I'm not. The Reaping doesn't scare me. Nerves, sure, but being the daughter of the mayor I feel pretty secure.

"Here," he pulls at my hair and gently ties it up in a pink bow. "It's your mothers. She wanted you to wear it."

"Thanks Daddy," I reach around and hug him. He brushes a strand of hair out of my face and sighs. "You don't have to be so nervous, you know."

"Yes I do," he mutters, "every day until you turn 19, Madge." Then he reaches in his pocket and pulls out a little golden pin. I've seen pictures of it before but never in person. "Your aunt was 16 when she went into the arena," he tells me. "This is for you, for good luck." He fastens it to my dress and I turn back to the mirror to assess myself. "You look beautiful, sweetie." I nod in response, and he turns to leave. "Oh, right, money for the strawberries is on the counter. They should be here soon." He leaves now and I know it's because he has to get things ready for the arrival of the Capitols team. Effie Trinket will make another spectacular return, one can only guess what color her hair will be this time.

"Ridiculous," I mutter to myself, remembering last year's forest green shade. Capitol people. They have marvelous fashion, but I can't stand the things they do to their hair. Why not natural colors? I'll never understand.

A knock at the door brings me back to the present and I'm scurrying down the stairs, careful to skip the step that squeaks so I don't wake my mother. She most certainly has her curtains drawn and is submerged in morphling, but reaping day is always bad for her and anything might wake her. I scoot the money from the counter into my palms and open the door. Katniss stands with a greeting smile, but her friend next to her has a face of stone.

"Pretty dress," he mutters almost instantly, and I narrow my glare. I don't miss the sarcasm in his tone.

"Well, if I end up going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?" Two can play at this game. It isn't my fault my father's the mayor. His eyebrows knit in confusion and I know he picked up my own sarcasm. His face quickly transforms into indifference again.

"You won't be going to the Capitol," he tells me, and his eyes dart down to the pin on my dress. I drop my own eyes to look at it for a moment, but look up and meet his stare before too long. Yes, Gale, it is real gold. "What can you have? Five entries? I had six when I was just twelve years old."

I go to snap at him but Katniss beats me to it, saying, "That's not her fault." I want to thank her for defending me but it feels kind of silly to do that with Gale standing right next to her. I'll have to remember to say something in school Monday.

"No, it's no one's fault. Just the way it is," he says. My face turns just as stone as his and I turn my gaze to Katniss. I drop the money in her hands and she passes me the berries.

"Good luck, Katniss."

"You too," she replies, and I watch her pass the coins to Gale. He's the first to turn away, and she offers a pity smile before turning to follow him. I gently shut the door behind them and turn back, going to the kitchen to run the berries under the sink water.

I chew at the inside of my cheek as the pipes squeak and sputter before the water shoots out. I pull a strainer out of the cabinet and toss the berries in quickly before setting it under the faucet. I want to be upset, and I want to yell at someone, but I know what Gale said is right. My odds compared to the odds of everyone else are slim, but it isn't my fault it's that way. And I can't change it either; it's just the way it is. I slam the handle down and the water turns off.

I shake the drainer to get the extra drops of water out and leave them to sit in the sink. I make my way over to the piano in the living room and finger through the playing sheets I have out. One catches my eye and I know it wouldn't disturb my mother if I played. My fingers dance across the keys and my thoughts drift off. Why do things have to be this complicated? The games? The reaping? The peacemakers are enough terror, why do we need to watch children brutally kill each other? My aunt died in vain, as did hundreds of others. Why do we just sit back and take it? Why should we be so scared?

As my thoughts shout the questions I'd never dare to speak a banging on the door makes me jump out of my skin. The peacemakers can't already be checking for stragglers, can they? I check the clock quickly and sigh in relief that I'm not late yet. I push myself off the stool and scramble to the door. Through the eye hole a tall figure stands with his arms crossed and a stony look on my face.

I open the door, not even masking the confusion that's shining on my face. "Gale?"

"Was that you playing?"

"Yeah," I absentmindedly smooth the folds out of my dress. "Why're you here?"

"You paid too much," he says quickly, holding out his hand, a single shiny gold coin glistening between his thumb and index finger. "Thought you'd want it back."

I shake my head and cross my arms, pulling the door shut behind me. I should probably get going anyways. "No, I paid the right amount." He steps back as I step forward, dropping his hand awkwardly. He's changed now, a blue cotton button up tight around his arms and khakis that probably won't fit him next year. "Keep it."

"I don't want your money, Undersee," he mutters, "and I don't need it."

"I gave you the right amount," I insist, "the amount I deemed worthy for the fruit." He sighs and drops the coin in his pocket.

"I don't need someone like you pitying me." He growls before turning off, most likely to the reaping. "Snotty rich town girl with more money than she can handle."

"I resent that!" I jab after him, following on his heels. He pauses in step and I bump into his back, but quickly push myself off and smooth my dress. "I don't pity you, and I'm not a snotty rich town girl!"

"Ah," he turns, crossing his arms, "But you do have more money than you can handle? A pin made of gold? An expensive white dress?"

"That isn't my fault!" I hiss at him, "Why do you blame me for the money my father has?" His face is emotionless and his hands slowly drop from across his chest before he starts back toward the square. My brain can't bring my feet to follow him.

"You forgot your shoes," he calls back to me without turning around, and I look down, realizing he's right.

"Good luck, Gale," I reply loudly. I know it's his last year and I'd hate to see how Katniss would act if he got reaped. Besides, his family needs him, and he's right. His name is in there plenty more times than mine. He pauses, looks back at me for a moment, but then shakes his head and continues on his way.

A/N: Okay so this is my first fanfic and I'm nervous to post it but I love Gadge so hey I'll post it and okay enjoy! c: